


Something Like Camaraderie

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Fluff, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Mentioned Danny Mahealani, Past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Pining, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: It turns out Danny isn’t interested in Stiles or Jackson. So they comfort each other instead.





	Something Like Camaraderie

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a little something for stackson week! This is a fic about being fuckbuddies, but there’s no graphic sex in it, just fyi.

Stiles asks Danny out in the school parking lot, because it’s the only place he can get him alone without being creepy. Danny turns him down, which isn’t what Stiles had been hoping for, but it is what he expects.

What he _doesn’t_ expect is the look of commiseration Jackson gives him as he’s walking toward the Porsche. Followed by Jackson’s fingers curling around his elbow and tugging him away from Danny, muttering, “Come on, don’t make things worse.”

Stiles blinks rapidly and lets Jackson tow him to his fancy car, mostly because he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. And when Jackson opens the door gestures him to get inside he still doesn’t know, but he hopes it doesn’t involve him being dropped off in the middle of nowhere for having the audacity to ask Jackson’s best friend on a date.

Sometimes Stiles’ vivid imagination is more of a curse than a blessing.

The drive is silent, and Stiles tries not to look too surprised when they pull up in front of Jackson’s house. At least, he assumes its Jackson’s house. He’s never actually been.

Maybe Jackson wants him to help break and enter?

“I always knew you had good taste,” Jackson says as he unlocks the front door, and Stiles breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“Uh, thanks?” he says, a little confused by the sentiment. Jackson has known for years that Stiles was into Lydia, so why would that matter now?

“I’ve asked Danny out too,” Jackson says as he leads them up the stairs. “More than once. And he’s always turned me down.”

The way he says it makes Stiles feel like he’s in some kind of small, secret club. Though he’d bet Danny has turned down far more people than just him and Jackson. Everybody likes him, after all.

Jackson pushes open the door to what must be his room, and Stiles’ eyes catch on the huge bed in the middle for a long moment. When he glances back at Jackson he’s pulling his shirt off, and grabbing a softer-looking one out of his dresser.

“He seriously turned you down?” Stiles blurts, eyes tracing the muscular curves of Jackson’s shoulders and back. Jackson might be an asshole, but Stiles can fully admit that he’s a _hot_ asshole.

Jackson turns, catches him looking. Stiles figures he’s in for it now, but Jackson just smirks and says, “I guess I can’t be _everyone’s_ type.” His shirt is still in his hands, but he makes no move to put it on. Instead he looks at Stiles in a way that’s a little challenging, then tilts his head toward the bed and says, “You want to?”

Stiles spends a half-second wondering if this is a prank, then says, “Yeah,” because there’s only one way to find out.

They have sex right then, if “sex” can be defined as “grinding together while mostly-dressed, kissing and biting until they both come.” Stiles runs his hands all over Jackson’s body the entire time, partly because Jackson seems to like it, and partly because Stiles has been wanting to touch someone sexually for _years_.

He’s not missing the chance.

When it’s over and they’re laying together panting, Jackson laughs, but it’s not cruel. “Maybe we can get a little further next time,” he says.

“Hell yeah,” Stiles says, stroking appreciatively across Jackson’s abs.

He’s pretty sure he can handle a fuckbuddy arrangement.

 

*

 

So it becomes normal, expected even, for him to go to Jackson’s house after school most days. They always have sex first thing, then Stiles usually hangs around and works on his homework for a while, in case either of them want a second round.

Sometimes Jackson will join him, and they’ll work on their assignments together, idly complaining about their teachers as they do.

Three weeks in, Jackson pulls Stiles on top of him and says, “I want you to fuck me.”

Stiles is only too eager to oblige.

And the next week, he asks Jackson to fuck him.

It’s better than he ever expected.

He certainly never thought he’d get this kind of experience, especially not with someone like Jackson, but Stiles is only too happy to have it.

And, unexpectedly, he finds that he’s actually starting to like Jackson _as a person_. He’s much easier to be around since he started regularly talking to Stiles in a non-sarcastic, non-insulting way.

And he’s already found out a lot about Jackson—like the fact that he’s just as insecure as Stiles, though for vastly different reasons—and he wants to know the rest. He wants to know why Jackson is so at odds with his parents, wants to know why Jackson always shields himself behind his arrogance and callous behavior.

So he begins to wonder if they always _have_ to have sex, or if he and Jackson could stand to be around each other without it.

He finds out one afternoon, when he barely has the energy to drag himself up the stairs before flopping onto Jackson’s bed, exhausted. Jackson covers him with his body, kisses his neck and then his lips before realizing something’s wrong and pulling back.

“You okay?” he asks, and Stiles thinks he actually looks concerned.

Stiles runs a hand over his face. “I haven’t slept the past few nights. Harris is trying really fucking hard to fail me, so I’ve been stressing about the test tomorrow.”

He really hopes Jackson isn’t going to kick him out now that sex is off the table, because he’s way too tired to drive. But Jackson just rolls him onto his side, and tucks Stiles up against his chest.

“You won’t fail, you’re smarter than he is,” Jackson says, running a soothing hand across the back of his neck. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up later and quiz you over some stuff, okay?”

Stiles nuzzles up even further against Jackson’s shoulder and says, “Okay.”

He feels Jackson pull the blankets up around him, then he’s gone.

 

*

 

He’d sort of expected that, despite the sex they were having, Jackson would treat him in the same dickish way he always had when they were at school. Or maybe just pretend that he didn’t exist at all.

He hasn’t been doing that, though. Stiles doesn’t really pick up on that fact until Jackson’s walking across the cafeteria and sitting down to eat lunch with Stiles like it’s no big deal.

Stiles can’t help taking a quick glance toward Lydia’s table when he does. She doesn’t look happy. Rumor has it that she’d offered to get back together with Jackson, but he’d turned her down.

“How’d it go?” Jackson asks, and Stiles blinks at him, feeling disoriented. He doesn’t know why Jackson is here.

Across the table from them, Scott looks very confused.

“What?” he says, then takes a bite of his sandwich to buy himself time.

“Your test,” Jackson says, not even looking annoyed. “How’d it go?”

“Better than I expected,” Stiles says, then has to muffle a yawn. His anxiety is fading, so he’s getting tired again.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night either, huh?” Jackson says. “You can come over if you want. I remember you mumbling about how comfortable my bed was.”

It’s weird, but Jackson sounds almost fond.

“Okay,” Stiles says, secretly hoping there’ll be cuddling involved. “Sounds good.”

 

*

 

When he first started having sex with Jackson, Stiles would lie awake in bed at night, remembering what they’d done, and thinking up new things for them to do. Usually in vivid, graphic detail.

And he still does that, sure.

But now he spends a lot of time thinking about what it’d feel like to hold Jackson’s hand. What it’d be like to snuggle up with him while they watch a movie. How it would feel to lay in bed with him and make out for hours.

He can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to date Jackson, and he wonders if there’s something wrong with him.

Because this has always been about sex for Jackson. Nothing else. And he doesn’t want that to end, so he decides to keep his mouth shut.

He doesn’t _have_ to do anything about his feelings. He doesn’t.

 

*

 

They’re laying together in Jackson’s bed, sweaty and sated, when Stiles blurts, “I want more.”

Jackson lifts his head, looks at him wide-eyed. “Stiles, we have sex almost every day.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Stiles says, then forces himself to finish his thought, even though he’s afraid to. “Look, I know this started as some kind of ‘forget Danny, we can have our own fun’ thing, but.” His eyes rove Jackson’s face, which is suddenly very serious. “I _like_ you, Jackson. I want more than just—”

He’s cut off by Jackson’s mouth against his own, which is so typical. Jackson had learned all the best ways to shut him up early on.

Jackson pulls away, looking at him fiercely. “You think I’d let some _casual fling_ sleep in my bed? You think I’d let just _anybody_ mock my physics homework? You think I’d worry about someone I didn’t actually _care about_? Of course I want something more with you!”

“Why didn’t you say something, then?” Stiles says in surprise, because he knows Jackson isn’t nervous and awkward like he is.

“A few months ago you could barely stand me. I wasn’t going to push my fucking luck,” Jackson says, looking pained. “But when you slept next to me, comforted by me, I started to believe this could be a real relationship. I wanted it to be one.”

“Then it looks like I’m your boyfriend now,” Stiles says, pushing Jackson onto his back and sliding on top of him. He kisses Jackson softly, trying to finalize the seriousness of the moment before saying, “So we should totally have some celebratory sex.”

“You are insatiable,” Jackson huffs, rolling his eyes.

“You totally like it,” Stiles says cheerfully.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, smiling up at him. “I totally do.”

 

  

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
